


apple (of your eye)

by wolf antlers (space_adventures)



Series: Halloween Collection 2020 [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cock Warming, Crossdressing, Dubious Consent, Hand Feeding, M/M, Prostate Milking, Smut, Stockholm Syndrome, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:08:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27135031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/space_adventures/pseuds/wolf%20antlers
Summary: “Harry, darling,” Tom crooned, fingers slipping over Harry’s jaw and down the smooth front of his nightgown. “You look stunning.”“Thank you, My Lord,” he said throatily, breath hitching when Tom’s fingers slipped over a hardened nipple. He swallowed, flushing as Tom's eyes followed the bob of his throat. “I always want to look good for you.”It was true; Tom was his life, his everything.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Series: Halloween Collection 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1973395
Comments: 8
Kudos: 146





	apple (of your eye)

**Author's Note:**

> A few days late, but here's day 4's fic! Hope you enjoy~
> 
> **Prompts:** Dessert, clothing
> 
> Thanks Raven for the beta, thanks enablers for the support and anticipation.

“Harry, darling,” Tom crooned, fingers slipping over Harry’s jaw and down the smooth front of his nightgown. “You look stunning.”

“Thank you, My Lord,” he said throatily, breath hitching when Tom’s fingers slipped over a hardened nipple. He swallowed, flushing as Tom's eyes followed the bob of his throat. “I always want to look good for you.”

It was true; Tom was his life, his everything.

“I brought dessert today, darling,” Tom pulled out his wand, and Harry had to fight back the flashes of fear, panic, _oh-Merlin-he’s-going-to-hurt-me_ he was sure almost appeared on his face. He didn’t know why they’d apply right now anyway; Tom was safe. Tom wouldn’t hurt him.

A tray of pies and tarts floated in, and Harry’s stomach growled ( _when did he last eat? He can’t remember but his stomach hurt so bad, he was sure it was eating itself_ ) and Tom laughed.

“Hungry, are we?” Harry nodded, a goofy grin spreading across his face. Tom was so good to him. He sat patiently as Tom pulled over the soft armchair and sat down. “Come here, darling.” He patted his lap and Harry wandered over, easily sliding onto Tom’s lap like he did it every day. ( _Maybe he did do it every day but he couldn’t remember_ ~~ _why can’t he remember?_~~ )

Tom’s arms settled around his waist, pulling him closer and he squirmed at the feeling of hard cock under his arse. It was a little uncomfortable, but Tom was so warm after the lukewarm numbness Harry always felt — he couldn’t help but bury himself into it. The tray hovered next to the chair, patiently waiting for Tom to take the first dessert off it. He chose something Harry didn’t recognise but contained a beautiful red jam.

“Open your mouth for me,” Tom said, and Harry did so, as obedient as ever. As Harry chewed — strawberry flavoured, with the most curiously textured pastry he’d ever tried — Tom’s fingers wandered, lightly brushing Harry’s chest until he had to make a conscious effort to swallow, and then wandering down, lower and lower, over his sensitive ribs and quivering stomach, until teasing touches grazed the edge of his short nightgown where it met the smooth skin of his thighs. “Darling, you shaved for me? Beautiful.”

Harry shivered at the quiet praise, lips parting as he watched Tom’s fingers push the hem of his nightgown higher until it bunched at the top of his thighs. He could see a ribbon tail now, black and silky against the off-white cotton, and he wondered if Tom could see it too. Tom gripped Harry’s thighs gently, rubbing the trembling skin of his inner thighs with his thumbs. ( _The skin there was so thin, and Harry wondered if Tom would be strong enough to sink his fingers in so deep they would never come out again, to pull and tear at his flesh and destroy him, destroy his ability to escape, permanently disable him just for a sick thrill._ )

Tom’s fingers slipped higher, thumbs reaching the crease where his hip met his thigh and ran over the sensitive skin until he had to hide his face in Tom’s shoulder. The desserts were abandoned at this point, lonely even in their multitudes. It felt familiar.

“Oh good, you prepared yourself up for me,” Tom said, voice deep and dark as his fingers skimmed over the ribbon, growing harder as Harry squirmed in his lap. He pulled the nightgown up until Harry’s cock was bared to the room, limp and tied so tightly it had no chance of hardening at all. “You know exactly how I like you.”

“Yes, my Lord,” he whispered, hips involuntarily jumping as Tom’s fingers wandered down his shaft and over the head. He hadn’t been touched there in so long he didn’t think he could handle it anymore. Each pass of the pad of Tom’s thumb felt magnified by hundreds, thousands perhaps. “Please, no more,” Harry whimpered and slumped as Tom left it alone once again.

( _Harry spat as a hand grasped his cock, as a voice said, “I’m going to make you come until you yearn for my touch. And then I won’t give it to you.”_ )

“Do you think you could take my cock tonight?” Tom’s voice held no question, but Harry nodded anyway. Tom hadn’t fucked him last night, and he’d tightened up accordingly. He was sure Tom would enjoy taking him tonight; Tom had an obsession with Harry’s long since lost virginity, and the tighter he was, the better.

Harry wasn’t ashamed to admit he enjoyed it too — the ache as Tom pressed in, the little bit of adjusting he took to handle Tom’s cock — and he always wanted a little rest afterwards for Tom liked to fuck long and slow, late into the night.

Tom lifted Harry enough to shift his own legs, spreading Harry’s legs out with his knees. Harry felt his face warm despite the lack of audience and he shivered as Tom’s fingers traced his hole (as light as a feather, like always) and then a felt light cramp in his abdomen. Tom’s finger dipped inside, suddenly wet from a spell of his own creation, and Harry wanted to pull his legs shut and curl up. His body was so sensitive it _hurt_ , and he couldn’t fixate on anything but the easy stretch of Tom’s finger pressing deeper. His cock twitched and he moaned as Tom pushed his finger knuckle deep, and then pulled back and shoved another one in. It didn’t hurt, but the stretch made him tremble, hands grasping at the arms of the armchair for anything to keep him rooted in reality.

“ _Tom_.” It felt like too much, having his fingers this deep. He wished for a pillow to bite, or something easier to grab than an armchair, but there was nothing, nothing but Tom and his _(too much, too much_ ) touches. His nerve endings were on fire, ignited by the slow thrusts of Tom’s Merlin forsaken fingers.

And then there was nothing.

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply as he scooted forwards on Tom’s knee, giving him room to unbuckle his belt. He let Tom pull him back into the warmth of his body, and he couldn't help but wiggle at the feel of Tom's hard cock against his back. The length of it was searing hot, even though Harry's nightgown, and he flushed in anticipation.

Soon, it would be in him.

Tom tapped Harry’s hip, and he raised himself up, let Tom manipulate his body until he felt the head of Tom’s cock against him. His breath froze in his chest and he bit his lip. Tom left him waiting for a few seconds, just long enough to make him nervous ( _what if Tom decided he didn’t want to fuck anymore, what if he was_ bored—) and then the hands on his hips pulled him down, slowly, but, oh, _oh fuck_ , he was so _big_ —

Harry exhaled sharply, fingers clenching the arms of the chair again. It burned, an overwhelming stretch already, but he breathed through it, carefully lowered under the guidance of Tom’s hands. He was hardly halfway down. He whimpered as Tom kissed his shoulder, and then suddenly his arse was on Tom’s lap, fully stuffed with cock. Tom’s hands rubbed his thighs, coaxing him to relax more. By the Gods, he could hardly breathe with Tom’s hands running up and down his tingling skin. He was so bare, so open, so full he swore he felt it in his chest.

“You’re doing so good, darling. You’re so perfect for me,” Tom’s voice cut through the slight haze fogging his brain and he jumped, squeezing around Tom in surprise. Tom groaned, soft and low, and Harry shivered at the sound.

“Thank you. Thank you, My Lord,” he replied. His voice was light and airy; Tom probably couldn’t even hear him. “Thank you so much, I—”

Tom shifted him slightly, grinding their hips together and Harry moaned, embarrassingly loud in the silence. His feet couldn’t reach the floor like this, could hardly reach the floor in this chair anyway, and he couldn’t help the desire that unfurled in his gut at the thought. Tom could do whatever he wanted to Harry and he’d be helpless against it.

Tom held Harry’s hips firmly, rocking their hips together. It was almost too much, no, it _was_ too much. The lack of stimulation over the last day had left him sensitive and needy, and he could hardly take it. Anything — _everything_ — felt like too much.

With Tom’s permission, he might come instantly. Without it, however, he knew he could endure this torture until Tom was satisfied with him. Tom had trained that into his very soul.

“Open up,” Tom said, and Harry opened his mouth. This time, Harry could recognise the dessert. A custard square, with the smoothest, creamiest custard he’d ever tasted. He chewed carefully, taking care to swallow only when Tom’s rocking was least distracting. He’d rather not choke on pastry right now. “Did you enjoy that?”

Harry nodded, not trusting his voice right now, but Tom plucked his nipples sharply through the fabric of his nightgown, hard enough Harry winced in pain.

“Answer out loud, please.” The _please_ was only a formality drilled into Tom during his youth, hardly a notion of politeness. However, it did ease Harry’s nervousness enough for him to answer.

“I did, My Lord.” Any food was welcome after the lack of it all day. Perhaps Tom had left him hungry to fill him with desserts? The entire platter, just for him. There were too many, he’d never get through them.

But he did. The slow, careful grind of Tom’s hips as he fed Harry pastry after pastry kept him just out of reality while he ate. A meditative haze fell over him and he let himself sink into it, allowing himself to be carried away by Tom’s words and touches.

“Harry, darling.” Tom’s hands were warm and soft as they ran up and down Harry’s sides, hidden underneath the fabric of his nightgown.

“My-My Lord,” Harry stuttered out, but Tom shushed him quietly.

“You’ve done so well, darling,” Tom said, _crooned_ even. “You’ve eaten all the pastries for me. Good boy.”

And _oh_ , those words made him _tremble_. His head tilted back onto Tom’s shoulder, eyes closed in desire. Tom’s praise felt like the best reward of all, better than a platter full of desserts or an orgasm. He wanted Tom to recognise his good behaviour, to reward him like this _all the time_ , stuffed full of cock and so blissfully out of it he could hardly focus on more than what Tom was doing to his body.

Tom’s hands wandered once more, brushing over his sensitive nipples until he was squirming and Tom’s cock was hardening inside him once more.

“My Lord,” he gasped, and then there were teeth at his neck, biting and sucking until stars danced across his eyes. He tilted his head to allow better access, grinding as best as he could to make sure Tom _didn’t stop_.

“You’re so perfect for me, darling,” Tom said into the fragile skin of Harry’s neck, where he was sure it was mottled in bruises. “So receptive to my touch.”

This position wasn’t quite enough for Tom to come from, but Harry wished it was. There was an intimacy to it that he longed for in those long hours before Tom came back. He wished Tom could stay with him forever.

“Turn around for me, I want you to ride me properly,” Tom’s voice was low, but Harry heard it clear enough. It wasn’t often he got to take the top position, for Tom was far more interested in dominating than being in any position with lesser control.

Harry’s stomach clenched as he realised just what this was; a reward.

Tom had to help him turn around, but Tom was strong, lifting Harry off with ease. He moaned weakly at the feeling of Tom slipping out of him, and wobbled as his feet found the floor. Tom looked wonderful, his cock hard and glistening with lubricant, his pupils an endless void betraying how turned on he was. He licked his lips and Harry’s eyes were drawn to Tom’s mouth as he climbed back on the chair, resting his knees on either side of Tom’s hips. Sliding back down, taking Tom’s cock once more, felt like coming home.

“Oh Merlin, _My Lord_ ,” he gasped, grabbing Tom’s shoulders for balance. Tom’s hands rubbed soothing circles onto his hips and his muscles relaxed under the attention. “Can you kiss me?”

One of Tom’s hands cupped Harry’s cheek, his eyes softening just a little.

“Of course, darling.”

Tom’s lips were smooth and warm, and his mouth tasted of the careful blankness it always tasted of. Harry’s hands slid around Tom’s shoulders, pulling them closer together and he started moving slowly as Tom licked into his mouth. This position gave him much more freedom to move, and as he gained confidence allowed himself to bounce faster. He didn’t dare change the angle to allow himself more pleasure, but what he had was almost enough already.

When Tom pulled away to moan, Harry knew he was doing well.

“Good boy, you like this don’t you?” Harry nodded eagerly and Tom smiled, kissed the corner of Harry’s mouth. Harry couldn’t help but increase his movements, thighs flexing as he rose and fell in Tom’s lap. “ _Yes_ ~” Tom hissed, and Harry clenched around him, the subtle guttural note of parseltongue made him tremble.

Harry loved seeing Tom lose control. The high flush on his cheeks, the slight glaze over his eyes, the slight tremor in his fingers as he ran them over Harry’s hyper-aware skin. Tom did that now, hands slipping under the nightgown and rubbing up and down the length of Harry’s back, goosebumps erupting in their wake. _Fuck,_ Tom’s touch, his little gasps as he grew closer and closer, the furrow between his brows, the way his lips parted were all too much. Harry almost sobbed when he accidentally leaned back as he rose, Tom’s cock brushing his prostate.

“Oh darling, you’re so good for me, taking my cock like this—” Filthy words spewed from Tom’s lips and Harry clenched in anticipation for the telltale tensing, the hot rush of fluid inside him.

Tom’s fingers found Harry’s hips and slammed him down prematurely, his head falling forward and sinking into the flesh of Harry’s shoulder so hard it ached, and Harry groaned as he felt Tom empty himself inside his body. 

“Fuck,” Tom whispered, finally letting go with his teeth, leaning his head on Harry’s aching shoulder. Harry stroked Tom’s hair gently as he caught his breath. His need was still there, but it wasn’t important. If Tom wanted him to come, all he needed to do was say the word.

“You’ve done so well for me, Harry,” Tom said, leaning back in the chair and bringing Harry with him, pulling him against his chest. “I want you to keep yourself tied up for me. I want to try something.”

His strong, large hands gripped Harry’s thighs, lifting him up, and Harry quickly grabbed Tom’s collar as he stood, cock slipping out and leaving him _empty._ Tom walked them over to Harry’s nest of a bed, where Tom dropped him right in the middle of the nest of blankets Harry slept in. His stomach curled as he watched Tom tuck away his cock, and clenched as he felt himself leak onto the bed. Luckily, Tom was always kind enough to clean his bed after they finished together, erasing the evidence except that which remained in Harry’s body. He liked knowing Harry was carrying around his seed while doing his daily routine; Tom was perverse like that.

“I want to know if you can come untouched for me. Do you think you can, even with your cock tied up all prettily like that?” Harry knew he could. Tom had taught him well. He nodded.

Tom pushed Harry’s smooth legs up and Harry grabbed the backs of his knees, keeping himself exposed to Tom’s hungry eyes. He flushed as more come slipped out of his hole and Tom scooped it up, shoving it back inside. Harry moaned quietly and Tom smiled. His smile was pretty.

“I want you to stay like this, no matter what,” Tom warned, and Harry nodded. He’d managed it before, he could do it again. If he didn’t keep his legs up, he wouldn’t get to come. “Perfect.”

Tom renewed the lubrication spell and Harry shivered at the cool, wet feeling inside him. Tom’s fingers glistened obscenely in the candlelight. Tom ducked down, kneeling on the floor, and Harry looked up at the canopy roof, breath freezing in his chest as he anxiously waited for the first touch. He didn’t have to wait long, Tom’s finger pressed against him soon after, slick and chilly against his rim. Tom didn’t have to work very hard to slip inside, Harry was still loose from their previous fuck.

The first touch was _so much more_ than he could handle and he turned his head, biting into the pillow next to him. _Fuck_ , he didn’t think he’d last long, not with the way Tom had made him so receptive to any stimulation here. It didn’t take Tom’s searching finger long to find his prostate, and when he did Harry threw his head back, fingers already shaking, digging deep into the flesh of his thigh.

No, he wouldn’t last long at all.

Tom didn’t press very hard, instead using such teasing, light touches that Harry could scarcely breathe. He couldn’t focus on anything beyond Tom’s finger and the press of his teeth into the pillow, Tom’s smooth, low voice fading in and out in the background.

“Darling, you’re doing so well for me.” Tom was saying, voice like a prayer, “You’re taking it so well, you always take me so well. Such a good boy.”

Harry whined, pressing his face harder into the pillow. _Gods_ , Tom’s mouth killed him, all the filthy words he spewed sending him deeper into the haze that rapidly encroached his brain once more. His fingers were slipping on his thighs, palms sweating, and when he adjusted his grip and held them tighter Tom finally stopped teasing, pressing harder into his prostate than he had before, free hand pulling the ribbon loose.

“— _Come for me, my darling boy_ —”

Blood rushed through his ears, and Tom’s sinful litany disappeared entirely, and Harry’s back arched as he moaned, long and loud, come drooling out of his cock and pooling onto his stomach. Tom didn’t stop, a practised thumb rubbing Harry’s perineum as well. Harry could hardly see, his vision blurring until he could do nothing but close his eyes.

“ _Fantastic,_ ” Tom’s voice was rough with want, and Harry gasped as he came back to himself at the sound of it. “You can take more, can’t you?”

“Yes,” said, though he didn’t have much faith in himself. His thighs trembled and his palms were now slick with sweat. His chest rose and fell with every deep breath. He both wanted more and wanted to run away _so badly_ — 

But he didn’t move from his position, he wouldn’t let himself give in to the urge, no matter how much his fingers tingled and his head spun.

“Please, _please_ ,” he whimpered, though he couldn’t figure out what he was asking.

Tom didn’t stop, touching him so expertly he couldn’t do anything but _beg_ for it. Harry’s cock didn’t stop leaking, droplets of white come constantly ing in thick globs. Harry couldn’t feel his fingers or toes, his vision blurrier than ever, even with his glasses on.

It wasn’t long before Harry’s eyes rolled back, body trembling all over as another orgasm hit, rolling over the end of the last one. He was sure his legs would have dark purple bruises tomorrow, but now it was all he could do to prevent himself collapsing entirely.

“Good boy. I’ll stop here for you darling,” Tom was saying as he came back to himself once more and he fell back into the blankets, feet almost touching the floor as he let his legs go. His cock let out a futile twitch and his body jumped as Tom pressed once more against his prostate. He moaned weakly and longed to curl right up into himself, to sleep for days.

To have Tom take care of him.

“You were so good for me,” Tom said, and their eyes met. Tom was still handsome even though Harry’s eyes couldn’t focus, and he let out a pained whimper as Tom ran a hand along his thigh, reigniting his shakes. “I’m so _proud_.”

Harry couldn’t do anything but lie there, and move his head the tiniest bit in response, but Tom seemed happy enough with him anyway.

Tom’s cleaning spells were always strange, fuzzy almost, and the way they tickled today was too much.

“Sorry.” Tom didn’t sound very sorry but Harry couldn’t muster the words to argue with him, no matter how weak his arguments always were. He let out a vague sound, something between a whimper and a groan.

When Tom settled beside him, fingers curling in Harry’s hair, he couldn’t help but nuzzle into it, demanding more. The careful, gentle stimulus was enough to relax him, and his eyes closed, sleep overtaking him.


End file.
